


Ghost

by ultimateparadox



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean OCs, Gen, sad coran
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 10:40:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13611648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultimateparadox/pseuds/ultimateparadox
Summary: How does the training bot programming work?





	Ghost

Allura is a small child when she meets Staffmaster Lindi. He's an old, old man, older than her father and Coran and even Coran’s grandfather. His long life is as much discussed and lauded as his work with the long staff. He should be intimidating, but as he spies Altea's little princess looking at him from behind a thick pillar, his wrinkled face softens with warmth. 

“An honor to meet you here, my princess,” Lindi greets on a breath, craning his head down in a friendly, polite bow.

Allura leaves her hiding place when she is caught. She has escaped her literary tutor for the moment. Meeting one of the great Masters is an accident, but he does not seem upset that she isn't in the Lessons Hall. Returning the bow with a nod, she says, “The honor is mine, Master. Do Mother’s gardens serve you well?”

Hiding in the gardens is a first for Allura. Coran and her plethora of attendants are growing wise to the training rooms. Blademaster Nonal is one of the few with the authority to order her out of them and has been exercising that authority more and more as she has learned the princess is shirking her other curriculars. It's really quite annoying, in Allura’s none-too-biased opinion.

If Staffmaster Lindi is going to be a welcoming companion, however, she supposes she can spend less time fumbling with swords (she hopes she does not continue to disappoint Nonal, but she just can't seem to wield the weapon with the confidence of the king) and more time enjoying her mother's work. 

“Indeed, they are beautiful. The flowers are quite bright, and good on these old eyes,” says the old man, raising gnarled fingers to his eyes. They are a soft blue, but one seems to be fogging over. “Tell Her Majesty she has my compliments, will you? Once she's done scolding you, of course. A regular escape artist, are you?” There's a reedy exhale of a laugh as Allura flushes.

“I have no patience for the writings of Eskillian Mmaf!” protests the little princess. “Coran is old and can like him as much as he wants but I think his books are nothing but fluff!” Her outburst encourages another wheezy outburst from Lindi. Immediately, she is embarrassed. “M-my apologies, Father says I should be more reserved in my speaking.”

“Life goes on whether you're speaking your mind or not, Your Highness,” his grin spreads. “I'm too old to be bothered with the delicate sensibilities at court. Please speak freely.”

The offer is too opportune for Allura to ignore. “Really? Thank you, Staffmaster! During lessons it feels like I'm being forced to keep all my thoughts locked away in my head. I'm afraid courtly patience does not suit me.”

“According to Nonal, swordsmanship may not as well.”

Of all the gossipping flumworms! “That's-!”

Lindi is still smiling at her even as he waits for her to finish her rebuttal. She can't. When it becomes clear to him, he says, “There was no slight meant, my princess. Consider this, why I am the master of staffs and not blades? I believe there is an affinity in all of us Alteans. Archery Master Bumvell has found it in his bows and arrows. I can't shoot straight to save my life. The alchemists find it in their forgery and sciences. I can barely name the elements.” He stares out into the blooming gardens. “Your mother the Queen is prolific in her gardening. I've never seen anything so artistic in my life.”

Allura considers Lindi’s age and wonders if that's true. She wants to believe it and tell her mother later, watch her face brighten with pride. 

Lindi continues, “So perhaps the sword is not your affinity. Do not lose heart while you have endless options ahead of you.”

A childlike thought fills Allura's head and she eagerly leans forward towards the Staffmaster. “If the sword is no good, can you teach me the staff, Master?”

Lindi makes a thoughtful noise before a long silence stretches between them. His eyes are on the flowers, but Allura isn't sure if he's really seeing them. The sound of rapid footfalls intrudes on their quiet.

Allura bites down on the groan in her chest as Coran turns into the gardens. His eyes are sharp and he finds them instantly. Before he can begin his gentle chiding, Lindi speaks, “Ah, Coran. Do you think you can aid me in getting an audience with His Majesty? I need to discuss retiring my title.”

Scandalized, Allura pouts. It's as much an answer to her plea as any.

She doesn't understand why Coran's face looks strained for a flash. It's gone in a blink, his expression gone neutral. “Of course,” he says with a short bow. “Your service has been an honor.”

\--------

Coran stands at the controls in the training room's observation deck. Pidge is with him, less focused on the safety controls and more focused on Princess Allura’s bout with the training bot below. Their staffs clash with a metallic ring. The match is currently even, but Coran knows what level the AI is at and knows that sooner rather than later his princess will lose.

“How did you program the AI in the bots, anyway?” Pidge asks suddenly. Coran looks over, but she still only has eyes for the fight. 

Coran remembers an old, withered Altean combat master, strapped in the alchemist’s chair. The King rests his hand on the master's, thanking him for his service and dedication. The lovely alchemist Honerva begins the process and the machine covering Staffmaster Lindi’s scalp hums. The old man smiles as his mind begins to empty. Before long he goes limp. Nonal cries. Bumvell hangs his head. 

Lindi had said it clearly before King Alfor himself. His body had been in decline. Preserve his ability before his mind followed. Train the precious princess and let her potential grow.

Coran had been numb for days afterward, especially in the wake of Allura’s honest confusion and upset when she could no longer find Lindi in the gardens. 

“It's an old method 10,000 years lost,” he eventually says, tossing the Earth time constraint around in his mouth. “Nothing to do about it now.”

“Is that a challenge?” The green paladin smirks. “If I poke around enough I bet I could figure it out. Make us some new levels, or something.”

An image of one of the paladins, any of them, in the alchemist's chair makes him want to vomit. He smiles at her, anyway. “I think you could come up with a better way. Show me your ingenuity!”

From the training room, a loud clatter signals the princess being disarmed. She calls out an end to the training sequence and the robot goes still. 

He will never tell her what happened to Staffmaster Lindi. He will not never tell her that she cannot pass the first level they had keyed in using his upload.

\--------

Much later, when Princess Allura gets her hands on the blue bayard, Coran is relieved. The weapon is not a staff, despite her long periods of practice. It is a long, ribbon like whip. It flows elegantly with the princess's command, and he feels the old ghosts start to fade.

**Author's Note:**

> Whoops hi


End file.
